Night swallowed the street whole.
Red and blue lights reflected off wet asphalt as police vehicles sealed every possible exit. Armed officers stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a perfect circle. No gaps. No hesitation.
At the center stood a man.
Hands raised.
Breathing uneven.
One week.
That was all it had taken.
A detective stepped forward from the line. Calm. Composed. His posture alone silenced the scene.
"You played well," he said. "You kept us busy for a week."
The man laughed hoarsely. "For two hundred deaths? That's impressive."
"You made one mistake," the detective continued, ignoring the comment. "You changed too much. Locations. Methods. Timing."
He tilted his head slightly.
"People like you can't resist leaving a pattern—even when you try to hide it."
The man's smile faded.
"You thought unpredictability made you smarter," the detective said. "It didn't."
Silence stretched.
"I knew this was coming," the man finally said. "But it doesn't matter. Two hundred people are dead."
The detective raised his hand.
Then lowered it.
Gunfire cracked through the air.
The man collapsed before his body hit the ground.
The case was over.
By dawn, the city of Greyhaven was awake again.
Inside the central police office, the atmosphere was different. Quiet. Heavy. Respectful.
The detective stood in front of a desk, a thick report folder placed neatly in his hands.
The head of the department flipped through the pages slowly. Evidence. Timelines. Psychological analysis. Arrest strategy.
After a long moment, he closed the file.
"Well done," he said. "I knew you would finish it."
Applause broke out across the room.
Officers. Analysts. Investigators.
Some smiled. Some nodded. Others simply watched with admiration.
Solving a case with two hundred victims in one week was unheard of.
The detective gave a small nod. Nothing more.
That was all he ever did.
Hours later, cameras flashed as news channels went live.
"This morning, authorities confirmed that the serial killer responsible for over two hundred deaths has been neutralized," the reporter announced.
"The suspect opened fire during arrest and was executed on-site."
Behind the reporter, footage of police vehicles and blurred crime scenes played.
"The investigation was led by one of the country's most respected detectives," the broadcast continued. "Officials confirm the threat has been eliminated."
Across the country, people watched.
Some felt relief.
Some felt fear.
The message was clear.
Crime would not be tolerated.
Morning arrived quietly.
The city shifted from sirens to footsteps.
At Northbridge College, students poured through the gates—laughing, complaining, checking schedules. First day chaos. Bags slung over shoulders. Phones in hand.
Among them walked a young man.
Aaron.
Headphones in. Expression neutral.
To everyone around him, he was just another student starting another ordinary day.
No one noticed him.
And that was exactly how it should be.